Lazarean.

Honesty: For the past couple of days, I've been thinking of abandoning this blog. I've got nine hundred and ninety-nine posts on here and there was something poetic and oddly satisfying about quitting before I got to one thousand. But then Mike Cameron wore that shirt and it just wasn't something that could be allowed to pass without comment. So I guess that I'm in this for the long haul.

It's a stunning shirt. Fashion sense aside, there's yet another reason to be a Mike Cameron fan; if he wasn't a baseball player, then he would be an architect. In a tale of dreams dashed (and the kind of thing that sticks with you for decades) I remember telling my third grade teacher, Mrs. McNeil, that I wanted to be an architect only to have her reply that you couldn't be an architect if you weren't able to draw straight lines. (As if she knew anything about becoming an architect. Whatever. Dream-squasher.) So I think architects and engineers are just the coolest people. It's too bad Charlie Zink moved on to St. Louis; they could have talked about architecture.

The Steel Driving Award.

Jacoby Ellsbury may have chosen to not attend the Legacy Awards at the Negro League Baseball Museum tonight to collect his James "Cool Papa" Bell Award but there will be a representative of the Red Sox there. Mike Cameron will be receiving the John Henry "Pop" Lloyd Award for baseball and community leadership. Congratulations to him.

Personal Reference.

I can't imagine who you would have to be or what you would have had to have done for Sean Casey to dislike you. He seems like the type of person who could find the good in anyone. So it comes as no surprise that Casey provides a glowing recommendation of Mike Cameron:

"Cam has a great personality. He brings energy to the park every day. He's real loose. Guys gravitate toward him. He plays hard every night, just like (Dustin) Pedroia and (Kevin) Youkilis. He is a perfect fit with that team and that city."

Sold.

Getting to Know You. Or, Old Habits Die Hard.

Getting to like John Lackey may be more difficult than I anticipated. Just a few seconds into his presser I ended up snarling "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." at the television screen. I hate his stupid little beady eyes and his pointy teeth and his mole and his under-bite and his mouth-breathing. He might as well be called John Hapsburg. And to top it all off, that voice. Oy.

The prima donna thing may be overplayed because he is reportedly a good teammate (but, of course, I can't find the article) just extremely passionate. And he's a ballplayer not a politician, so the lack of eloquence may be forgiven.

See? Little by little I'll probably come around.





But Mike Cameron and I? While in terms of the ability to cast off the cliches he's not Justin Masterson (whom I am convinced has a preacher inside him), Mike Cameron and I are cool. He seems genuinely happy to be here. He and Francona go back a long way. And he plays a mean centerfield.